Country Boy's World
by Agent Romanov
Summary: "Clint was getting more and more anxious to get going on this mission. Not only was he going back to his roots, but he was taking his best friend with him." Clintasha. *I don't own Marvel or any of the songs I sampled from.*


Clint was excited for this mission. Normally he hated this type of undercover missions with Natasha because, for some reason, he had trouble watching her saunter up to men and bat her eyelashes. But this one was different. This time, he wouldn't have to act. The target had been lying low for a while, but was spotted recently in Louisville, Kentucky. Clint and Natasha were heading out to the country, which thrilled the Iowa born archer. They target had been visiting one particular bar most nights for about two weeks. This was enough of a pattern to send in a termination team. As this was a fairly simple mission, it was supposed to be given to a Level 7 team. However, when Clint heard where it was he had begged Coulson to send him on it, which is why Natasha and Clint, both Level 10 agents, were getting packed for this easy mission. Clint just took his off-duty clothes and put them in an old duffel bag. Four plaid flannels, a few white t-shirts and a few pair of jeans. Natasha, on the other hand, had no clue what to wear. She called Clint to her bunk for assistance.

"What's up, Nat?" Clint asked from her doorway.

"I don't know what clothes I need for this mission. Since you're the resident country boy, can you help me out?" Natasha asked, gesturing to the mountains of clothes strewn around her bunk.

"Ok well first you'll need jeans. Boot-cut is best, but Daisy Dukes wouldn't be too bad." Clint instructed. Natasha held up a few pairs of jeans and a pair of jeans shorts.

"Are these ok?" She asked, looking unsure.

"Yeah those work. Shirts will be a little harder. You'll want some white or black tank tops and some plaid shirts." Clint replied, now helping her dig through her abundance of clothes.

"Should I try these on together to make sure they're alright?" Natasha proposed. She was ever the dedicated agent and wouldn't let her cover be blown over something as simple as clothing. Clint nodded his agreement. She stepped out in a black tank top and dark boot-cut jeans.

"You need a plaid shirt to go over it." Clint advised. Natasha tore open Clint's bag, found a red and black flannel and pulled it on.

"The target won't know what hit him." Clint told her, unable to pull his eyes off his partner.

"If all goes well, it'll be a nine millimeter." Natasha quipped. Clint chuckled and trained his focus back to the mission. He was getting more and more anxious to get going on this mission. Not only was he going back to his roots, but he was taking his best friend with him.

Strike Team Delta was set up in their room and set out for the bar. SHIELD had supplied them with a truck, but Clint insisted that they walk. They didn't expect the mark to be present tonight; they were just going to make their presence known. In a bar like this, the bartender would know everyone so they didn't want to be the ones that stuck out in his mind when people started asking around about the regular who suddenly stopped showing up. Clint and Natasha walked into the bar and Clint breathed in the smell of leather, beer, and Kentucky bourbon. Natasha clapped her hands over her ears.

"What _is _this?" she yelled so Clint could hear her.

"Country!" Clint laughed. "Come on, let's dance. You'll like it." Natasha looked hesitant but allowed Clint to drag her out onto the dance floor. He taught her how to dance to the fast paced song and she seemed to enjoy it. After a few songs she went back the bar.

"Vodka cranberry." She told the bartender.

"Actually she'll have a shot of Jack. And one for me as well."

"Trying to get me drunk, Barton?" Natasha teased.

"Wouldn't be too hard, would it?" Clint shot back, winking.

"You know I can drink you under the table," Natasha taunted.

"Challenge accepted." Clint laughed, throwing back his first shot. She followed suit, and marveled at how it burned her throat. A slower song came on and Clint grabbed Natasha's wrist, pulling her out onto the empty dance floor before she could protest. Boldly putting his hands on her waist, he began to sway to the song, which resounded through the nearly empty bar. The song had nearly come to an end when Clint leaned into Natasha and began singing softly into her ear.

_And we danced  
>Like no one else had ever danced before<br>I can't explain what happened on that floor  
>But the music played, we held each other close<br>And we danced, yeah, we danced_

Natasha's eyes widened in surprise; she was shocked by Clint's singing ability and his breath on her neck and the smoky molasses smell of seven year bourbon. His voice was low and smooth as he softly serenaded her. When the song ended she pulled away, still wearing a look of surprise. His grin melted into a look of worry.

"Why don't we get out of here?" Natasha proposed.

"Okay," Clint agreed, not really wanting to leave. He followed her out the door and they headed back to the hotel.

During the day, they toured around Louisville. Clint was in full on country mode. Natasha was nodding as he rambled about college basketball and country music and whatever else. She loved seeing him that animated, but she wasn't interested in March Madness or whatever it was he was going on about.

"…and then Kevin Ware's leg just snapped! The bone was sticking out and everything! And Louisville still won the championship! Which was great because Michigan sucks! Without one of their best players, they still beat the Wolverines 82 to 76!" Clint was talking wildly, beating his fists against the steering wheel of the truck. They were heading back to the hotel to get ready for later that night. They were planning on taking down the target tonight. They had been going to the bar every night and had seen the mark there a couple times. The acted as though they were couple in front of the target. This was part of their set up. Tonight they would get in a fight and lonely Natasha would find comfort in the target's arms. Or so he would think.

When they got to the hotel, Natasha slipped into the bathroom to get changed. She didn't like to wear her country girl clothes any more than she has to, though secretly she liked wearing Clint's shirts. She stepped out of the bathroom and Clint's jaw dropped. Natasha had put her red hair into two braids, and she wore her Daisy Dukes with a white tank top and a black and gray plaid shirt hanging loosely. Clint's eyes went down from her braids to the tank top that hugged her curves to the Daisy Dukes that lead to her shapely legs and he nearly lost it when his eyes settled on the cowgirl boots she was wearing. Natasha walked up to Clint and raised her hand towards his face. His mind raced. Was she going to kiss him? Should he kiss her? Instead, she put her hand on his jaw and pushed his mouth closed. He blushed and grinned and smiled embarrassedly.

"Look alive, Barton." Natasha joked. Clint straightened up and set his jaw. He followed her out of the hotel. They walked to the bar and prepared for the execution of the mission. They both ordered beer and sat down, feigning a heated discussion.

"I told you, just drop it!" Natasha exclaimed.

"I still don't know what you're so upset about!" Clint returned loudly, making his voice a mixture of frustration and confusion.

"You know what you did!" Natasha insisted. Clint grabbed her wrist as she started to stomp away. Enraged, Natasha spun around him and slapped Clint. Clint stormed out. Natasha sat at the bar, biting back a smile. Even though she had protested at first, she had enjoyed slapping Clint. It made up for a lot of other times she had wanted to but couldn't. See, for some reason, SHIELD had a problem with violence against fellow agents, no matter how stupid they were being. Just then, the target walked up to her.

"Sorry about what happened back there. Can I buy you a drink?" He offered. His name was Nathan Riley.

"Thanks. And it was nothing; he's just been eyeing other girls for too long. It needed to end." Natasha replied.

"He was eyeing other girls? With you by his side? He must be blind." Nathan commented. Natasha smiled.

"Thanks. I just feel like I need to do something to forget about him. Something wild." Natasha added, eyeing the mark from above her drink. It didn't take much longer for him to be leading her back to his apartment. Clint had set up on the roof of a building across the street. After grabbing a bottle of wine and a couple glasses, the target led Natasha out onto the balcony. As they talked, Nathan moved his hand to the small of Natasha's back. He leaned into kiss her and a split second later he was dead on the floor with an arrow in his temple.

"A little impatient, are we?" Natasha laughed into her comm unit.

"The situation had changed. I took the necessary actions." Clint replied shortly.

"How so? Did Coulson contact you?" Natasha asked.

"He was about to kiss you!" Clint cried indignantly, all professional attitude thrown to the wayside.

"So?" Natasha replied, confused.

"I couldn't just watch him kiss you!" Clint exclaimed.

"Agent Barton, are you jealous?" Natasha taunted.

"No." Clint replied stubbornly. Natasha stopped. Normally, he would have teased her right back. Maybe he really was jealous.

The next day, Natasha woke promptly at six in the morning and started getting packed. After a half an hour of preparing silently, she walked over to Clint who was still sleeping soundly.

"Clint, wake up." She instructed. Clint didn't stir. She grabbed the end of the blanket and swept the covers off of him, leaving Clint in only his shorts. It took a moment for the cold to settle in, but within a minute Clint was groggily reaching for the blankets.

"Come on, Clint, we need to get packed." Natasha urged.

"No we don't. We're not leaving until tonight at eight." Clint responded sleepily.

"What do you mean?" Natasha asked.

"8 PM, not 8 AM." Clint clarified. Without reply, Natasha slipped back into her bed and shrunk back into the still warm covers, and didn't wake up again until 10. This time, it was Clint who woke Natasha.

"Natasha, wake up." Clint said softly. She was immediately awake, but pretended she wasn't.

"Come on, Tasha. It's ten in the morning. You ought to wake up." She still didn't stir. "You leave me no choice, Natasha." He leaned down and scooped her up into his arms. She instantly reacted, no longer able to feign her slumber. In a moment, she was standing behind Barton, then shoved him down onto the bed.

"Jackass. I was sleeping!" Natasha exclaimed.

"No you weren't." Clint replied before taking a pillow from the bed and whacking Natasha in the side.

"Oh you're so dead, Barton." She took another pillow and beat Clint back into the bed, pinning him. He didn't fight back. "Why aren't you trying to escape?"

"Why would I?" Clint teased. Natasha just rolled her eyes and got off of him, but not before hitting him in the head with a pillow.

"So what do you want to do until we have to leave?" Natasha asked.

"Let's go up to the river." Clint suggested. Natasha agreed and began to get ready for the day. She put on jeans, a white camisole and 'borrowed' another one of Clint's flannels. While Natasha got dressed, Clint went across the street and bought supplies for a picnic. They drove out to the river, listening to the radio. Clint sang along shamelessly and Natasha mouthed the words quietly, not daring to let Clint know she was starting to enjoy it.

_Days go by  
>I can feel 'em flying<br>Like a hand out the window in the wind as the cars go by  
>It's all we've been given<br>So you better start livin' right now  
>'Cause days go by<em>

They pulled the truck up to the river and sat in the bed. They spent hours just talking and listening to the radio. Around six, Natasha realized they needed to get back to base.

"Ok, Clint, this was fun but we've got to head back to base." Natasha told him.

"Why?" Clint asked. Not petulantly, he was legitimately asking.

"Because we've got to be back for debriefing, and in case they need us for a mission." Natasha answered automatically.

"Tasha, they haven't got any missions for us. I had to beg Coulson just to give us this one." Clint replied.

"What?! You mean we didn't have to come out to the middle of nowhere?" Natasha exclaimed angrily.

"I was getting bored, and I missed being out in the country. And I wanted to show you the world I grew up in. I thought you were starting to like it." Clint explained, feeling hurt. Natasha softened.

"Well I never cared much for protocol anyway, and I am starting to like it. It's kinda nice out here. It feels safer and more…hospitable." Natasha finished after a moment of fishing for the right word. They sat together and watched the sun set. After the sun went down, Natasha slipped into Clint's arms on the grounds that she had not brought a jacket and was feeling cold. Both of them knew it was a lie. She was Russian and it was still 50 degrees Fahrenheit. There was no way she was actually cold, but Clint definitely wasn't going to complain. She leaned her head back into his chest and, for the second time this week, he sang softly into her ear.

_This old holler's got a way of makin friends  
>She never seen a glowin field of fireflies<br>Or the twinkle of a star in a southern sky  
>She fell in love<em>

Natasha turned her head towards him and her startlingly green eyes met his stormy blue-gray ones. She leaned in for a soft kiss and settled her head back on his chest just as the song was coming to an end.

_She gave me a chance and I made her mine  
>Said she'll never fly away and she's my girl<br>Cause I showed her 'round a country boy's world_


End file.
